Bad Blood
by LectersLambs
Summary: After escaping prison, Dr. Lecter decides to get his revenge on his captor Will Graham by taking away the one thing he cherishes most; his girlfriend, Clarice Starling. AU Hannibal/Clarice Will/Clarice
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys this is my first Hannibal-universe fic and the first fic I've written in about 3 years so please read this with an open mind :)**

**This story is AU, the events of SotL happened (i.e. Clarice caught Buffalo Bill) however Hannibal had already escaped before Clarice was recruited to the case therefore Hannibal and Clarice have never met. Will and Clarice are dating. I've tried to stick to the timeline of the novels as much as possible but I've decided that the story is taking place is taking place in present day purely for easiness heh heh. Parts of the story are a mix between TV, novel and movie canon. In terms of the characters I myself see Will Graham as Hugh Dancy, Clarice Starling as Jodie Foster and Hannibal Lecter as Anthony Hopkins but I understand that you guys may see differently so I'll try and refrain from physically describing the characters as much as possible.**

**The title is from the Bastille song 'Bad Blood'**

**Anywho, enjoy the story :)**

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Chapter 1

Dr. Hannibal Lecter, under the new alias of Thomas Gibson, sat comfortably in the small café on the corner of the street as he watched her. She was dressed casually in denim jeans and fitted green sweater. She thanked the young, spotty teenager behind the cash register as he handed her her coffee with a small smirk as she turned away and walked out the door. Hannibal waited thirty seconds before exiting the café and following her footsteps. He was not concerned with her recognising him. His usual grey hair had been dyed a dark brown, almost appearing black in the right light. He had also taken the liberty of dying his now grown facial hair, a light but noticeable stubble, despite its subtlety it was still a significant change to his regular clean shaven appearance. As well as this his countenance was shadowed by the grey fedora he had worn on his head.

An added advantage was the fact Clarice Starling had never met him face to face. She was a recently graduated FBI agent, acquiring some fame after catching the infamous Buffalo Bill and saving the Senator's daughter Catherine Martin. She had done so after receiving several 'anonymous' tips from an unidentified source through her mail. While the tips had been some cause for concern for Jack Crawford, head of the BSU and the man who had essentially recruited Clarice to help with the case, they had helped immensely with the case and the suspicious circumstances were more or less forgotten about.

The excitement and buzz over the capture of Buffalo Bill had taken away a considerable amount of attention from Hannibal Lecter, who had escaped Baltimore Hospital for the Criminally Insane just six months previous. He had previously been residing in Jamaica for the time being but had returned to the States just a mere three days ago as he set his plan into motion.

After escaping prison, Lecter had tried to find out everything he could on his captor, Will Graham. And find out everything he did.

"My, my, Will you have been a busy boy," Lecter had remarked as he read over the several documents his informant had given him.

After the events of Francis Dolarhyde, Will's alcoholism was at an all time high. Eventually his wife Molly thought enough was enough and took young Josh and left him, resulting in divorce eight months after Dolarhyde's demise. Two years later, Will began to get his life back together and resumed teaching for the FBI. During such time, he met and secretly began dating Clarice Starling, a young, beautiful and highly gifted FBI trainee. Lecter had scoffed at Will's apparent mid-life crisis. Three years later, the couple still keep their relationship secret from government officials however, as Lecter had discovered, Will recently purchased an engagement ring from a local jeweller.

While Clarice's official address stated that she resided in an apartment with fellow trainee Ardelia Mapp, it was apparent that most of her time was spent in the home of Will Graham.

At first, Lecter could not place why Will focused so heavily on this woman, after all she was a 20-something student with close to no life experience, an empty vessel. He was even more surprised when he heard that Jack Crawford had selected her to assist him in the hunt for Buffalo Bill. It was then he saw her potential. He had seriously underestimated her as some naïve, white trash wannabe agent but as he observed her progress he saw her determination, her perseverance and her quick wit. She was intelligent, she was headstrong and she was resilient. All she needed, as most fledglings do, was a push in the right direction. And Hannibal had been happy to oblige. His motivations were questionable, on the one hand he enjoyed assisting her so to speak and on the other if he were to be found out then he thought it would be entertaining way to mess with Will Graham.

So now as he watched her get into her Mustang, Lecter could feel the excitement ignite within him. Soon he would meet the elusive Clarice Starling. Soon he would finally have his revenge on Will Graham.

–

Clarice arrived home after the Saturday afternoon's errands to find the house smelling delightful. A smile spread across he face and she placed her keys on the table next to the door and hung her spring coat up on the hook on the wall. Classical music filled the house. Vivaldi, she presumed. He was obviously in a good mood which made Clarice happy. Experiencing the life he lived, Clarice realised that it was difficult for him to be happy.

As she made her way through to the kitchen she was overwhelmed with happiness and surprise to find him standing his the kitchen, the sleeves of his maroon sweater rolled up as he chopped and diced vegetables on a cutting board. He never cooked, she did most of the cooking. Whatever the occasion was, she didn't care, because the way he looked at her when she appeared in the door sent her heart soaring. She practically skipped over to him as he placed the knife down on the cutting board and opened his arms to welcome her into his embrace.

"Hello there," she smiled up at him as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

He smiled right back at her. "Hi there," he grinned before he leant down to kiss her briefly. "How was your day?"

She shrugged, not moving her arms from his neck as he put his arms around her waist. "Same old, same old. I'm actually much more concerned as to why on earth Will Graham is in the kitchen preparing a meal in what can only be described as a surprising turn of events," she raised her eyebrows at him.

He chuckled and kissed her nose as he reluctantly pulled his arms from her waist and returned to dicing. She made her way over to the fridge and pulled out a wine bottle and poured herself a glass. Leaning against the island counter where Will was preparing dinner, she watched him as she awaited his answer.

"I just thought you deserved it, after all the hell with Buffalo Bill and the escape of," Will cleared his throat as he uncomfortably spoke his name, "Lecter, I thought it'd be nice if for one night I played the role of doting, normal boyfriend with the girlfriend who is way too out of his league, and had a regular Saturday night in with her," he smiled up at her and she smiled right back.

"Well someone alert the Academy," she teased, gesturing her glass into the air before taking a sip. "Dinner and flowers in one day, I sure am one lucky gal," she said as she made her way over to him, standing behind him and kissing his cheek before heading back over to the calendar on the fridge to write in her dinner plans with Ardelia she had arranged next week.

Will thought for a moment and furrowed his brows. "Flowers? What flowers?"

"The azaleas," she absent-mindedly replied, still writing in the calendar. "They really were beautiful, Will, thank you."

Will stopped cutting and walked over to her, leaning with his back against the counter opposite her. "Emm, Clarice, I hate to break it to you but I never sent you any flowers," he retaliated.

Clarice turned to face him and gave him a puzzled look. "But when I went to visit Delia today there was bouquet in my bedroom addressed to me."

"Why would I send flowers to Dee's house when I would give them to you here?" Will crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Well if you didn't send me the flowers then who did?"

–

Hannibal watched the charming scene through the kitchen window from his car across the street. He watched as the charming young woman threw her arms around the disturbed ex-profiler like he was the only thing she had left in her life. Maybe he was. Hannibal knew that she was at least that to Will. That's what would make it all the more fun when Hannibal would take her away from him.

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**I know not much happens this chapter sorry just thought I'd use it to as a way to introduce the characters and their current places. Future chapters will be more eventful I promise!**

**Side note: I'm dreadful as proof reading so I apologise for any errors!**

**Hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter, please review and I'll see you guys next chapter :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Slight lemons this chapter heh heh **

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Chapter 2

After a shared couple of minutes of confusion Will and Clarice dropped the issue and engaged in their dinner with casual conversations. While Will's culinary skills had been lacking, he had managed to prepare a relatively edible meal, resulting in copious amounts of teasing from Clarice which Will took all in good sport. After dinner they retired to the living room couch, watching whatever crap was on TV that night. As the evening went on Will realised Clarice had had one glass too many of wine. Will himself, a recovering alcoholic, hadn't had any more than a glass or two of wine with dinner in more than three years. When he noticed Clarice's slurred words during conversation he couldn't help but chuckle.

"What?! What's so funny ex-Special Investigator Will Graham?!" Clarice almost yelled defensively as she pulled herself from Will's arms and turned to him so they were face-to-face.

He chucked again and raised his eyebrows. "Full title, Clarice? Have I really offended you that much Special Agent Starling?" he jabbed at her sides resulting in a shrieking giggle from her. The sound was like music to Will's ears and before he knew it he had tackled her onto her back and he now hovered over her, tickling her still. She laughed uncontrollably and begged him to stop and eventually he did but she didn't stop laughing.

He looked down at her lovingly and brushed the hair across her face behind her ear and rested his hand on her flushed cheek. She smiled up at him, her eyes darting from his lips to his eyes, anticipating his next move. He brought his face down to hers and kissed her softly. She responded by bringing her hands up and placing them round his neck. Following her reaction Will deepened the kiss, his tongue running along her bottom lip resulting in a small moan escaping Clarice. She ran her hands through his hair, occasionally tugging lightly as he moved his lips along her jaw and down her neck.

Pushing his weight down, Clarice moaned as she felt his erection rub against her through his jeans. She arched her back in retaliation, her arousal building. With his right hand Will moved his hand down her body, stopping at her breast and squeezing firmly, Clarice let out another moan. His hand continued to move down until he got to her jeans button. Fumbling a bit at first he managed to unbutton it and pull the zipper down. His lips ran back up her neck and met hers again as he hand slipped down the opening of her jeans and her panties. Clarice groaned against his lips, welcoming the contact. His fingers rubbed slowly against her clit as she tugged on his hair sending sensations through his body. Her breaths quickened as his fingers did also.

"Oh god, Will," Clarice breathlessly moaned as his lips once again moved to her neck.

Her climax was building and he could tell as she grabbed him more aggressively and her breathing hitched continuously. Will carefully repositioned his finger so that his thumb now massaged her clit and with two fingers he delved inside her. With that motion, Clarice breathlessly let go, her orgasm pooling around his fingers as she moaned his name. She shuddered against him and moved her head to sought out his lips. She kissed him four times before pulling away and looked up at him.

"Perhaps we should move this to the bedroom?" she suggested, kissing him lightly once again.

He pressed his forehead against hers. "Ladies first."

He reluctantly pulled off of her and sat upright before standing up. He held his hands out to her and pulled her up, wrapping his arms around her he kissed her passionately once more. And then the phone rang.

Pulling away from each other, the two looked at the living room clock. 10:45.

Clarice looked at him quizzically. "Who could be calling at this time?"

Will shook his head. "I have no idea," he began to make his way to the phone when Clarice stopped him by placing a hand on his arm.

"I'll get it," she looked up at him and moved towards him. "It's probably Delia with some boy issue. I'll meet you upstairs."

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Okay, but make it quick, I'm nowhere near finished with you yet," he growled slightly.

She giggled at that and made her way to the kitchen where the nearest phone was located. Will followed behind her with her empty bottle of wine and their two used glasses in hand. Clarice reached for the phone and pulled it off the receiver.

"Hello?" she answered in a tone that she attempted to make sound pleasant where in reality she was more than irritated at the timing of the phone call.

"Well, Clarice, did you like the flowers?" a mysterious voice on the other end of the line replied.

Clarice felt her heart drop into her stomach. She did not recognise the voice, she'd never heard it before, but the menacing tone behind it sent fear coursing through her. Will looked at her as he placed the glasses in the sink and mouthed '_Who is it?_' to which she could only shake her head and shrug.

"Who is this?" she asked in a voice that sounded far too shaky for her liking, she gripped the phone tight.

"Let's just say I'm an old friend of Special Investigator Graham. Will you be a dear and let him know I'll be popping in to see him shortly? I would hate to drop in unannounced," the voice, while sounding polite was filled with mischievous and threatening undertones. Clarice reached for the cabinet above the telephone that held the call tracking device the couple used. Sensing her movement through the phone the voice spoke again. "Don't bother with the trace, Clarice, I won't be on for much longer. Will said to make it quick did he not? Don't want to keep him waiting in the bedroom now do we, Clarice? Ta ta." The line went dead.

The colour in Clarice's face washed away and she wasn't aware she'd let go of the phone until it crashed onto the floor and Will rushed over to her grabbed her wrists. "Clarice who was on the phone?" she didn't answer. She just stared ahead. "Clarice, sweetheart, who was it?" he moved a hand to her face and met her eyes. "Clarice..."

"It was him," Clarice's voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "He sent me the flowers. He knew what we were talking about before I picked up the phone." her eyes widened as she looked at him. "He was in the house."

Will let go of her wrists and rushed for the kitchen wall. At the bottom of the wall there was a false outlet plug, tugging it from the wall revealed a small hole that concealed his emergency colt. 45. Pulling it from the wall he checked it was loaded before proceeding to look around the house. Clarice wasn't far behind him with her firearm.

"You check downstairs, I'll check upstairs," Clarice firmly said as she turned to make her way to the staircase before grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"No way, I'm not letting you out of my sight, not if," Will swallowed hard before saying his name, "not if Lecter's in this house."

She furrowed her brows at him. "I single handedly put down Jame Gumb in the pitch black without as much a scratch, I can handle myself, Will." She tried to move away but he held his grip on her.

"You've never encountered anything like this, Clarice. He will drive his knife into your neck before you can even blink now please, stay with me," Will pleaded locking his eyes with hers.

Clarice sighed. "If he's in this house Will we can't let him get away, what if he comes back when we don't know? Going together wastes time, arguing like this wastes time, I won't let anything happen to me, I promise," Clarice pleaded right back.

Will sighed and thought for a moment before putting his hand behind Clarice's head and kissing her forehead, hard. He whispered "go," and with that she embarked up the relatively small staircase.

When she reached the top of the landing she felt fear. But if he was here she would not let him no that's what she felt. This was the man who had harmed the man she loved. The reason the man she loved had gone through so much hardship and darkness in his life. She would replace her fear with anger as she hunted him. Because no one had been upstairs for hours there was no lights on, the downstairs lights providing small illumination as her hand slid along the wall feeling for the switch. She found it quickly and flipped it, the small hallway filling with light. She checked the bathroom first, the corner, the bath, behind the shower curtain. After she was satisfied she moved onto the guest bedroom. First checking the corner behind the door then the opposite corner. She made sure her coast was clear before getting down on her knees and checking underneath the bed. There was no shadow, no bump, nothing. Satisfied once more she checked the final room upstairs, the couple's shared bedroom. Flipping the light switch on Clarice was relieved to find that that room was also clear.

"Upstairs clear," she yelled down to Will as she backed out of the room, quickly scanning the rooms again before descending down the stairs.

She found Will searching the living room for what she presumed was the second time. He didn't even glance at her when she appeared in the door way and instead continued looking. "He's gone," Will sighed in defeat. "He's not here," he paused and looked up at her. "Are you sure that was him on the phone?"

Clarice nodded assuredly. "Positive," she stepped into the room. "He said he was an old friend of yours, and that he'd be 'popping in' to see you soon."

Will rushed over to her and pulled her into his arms. "I'm so sorry I had to pull you into this shit storm. I thought it was a part of my life that was behind me but it's not," he rested his chin on top of her head.

She moved her head from under him to look at his face. "Hey, don't talk like that," she put her hands on both sides of his face. "None of this is your fault. It's all him. I love you, and nothing will ever change that. And I will never, ever blame you for his psychopathic tendencies." She leaned up and kissed him reassuringly.

He smiled slightly then. "You should go stay at the apartment tonight," he said whilst rubbing her arms.

She shook her head almost violently. "Oh no, no way, nuh-uh, I am not leaving you," she protested.

"He wants _me_, he wants to harm _me_. If he has to take you down to get to me he will, you're not safe here with me, at least not tonight," he pleaded with his eyes. For once in their entire relationship, Clarice saw fear in her boyfriend's eyes. Not fear for himself, but fear for her. She sighed. Will had taken on Dr. Lecter once before and won, no doubt he could do it again if he had to. She had faith in him.

Shaking her head in a much more gentle fashion she pressed her forehead to his. "I'll go back a bag," she sighed and turned from him to make her way up the stairs.

When she returned to their shared bedroom she placed the still in tact gun on her bed. She sat down next to it and ran bent over so her head was between her legs, running her hands through her hair in frustration. She knew what she'd signed up for when she got involved with Will Graham. She knew the stories about him, he was disturbed, an alcoholic and was plagued with issues. But she could see that behind all that was a man desperately trying to get his life back together, trying to find his place in the world. She fell for him hard. She had hoped that the nightmares of his past would stay locked up. Literally. But now they were free and running around and Will was in danger again. She silently swore to herself that she would find the danger before it found him and put a stop to it.

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**Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, please review and see you next chapter :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

After an almost sleepless night Clarice awoke and immediately grabbed her cell phone. Will answered on the third ring, two rings too late for Clarice's liking.

"Hello," he answered groggily, Clarice looked over to the digital clock on her bedside table and read that it was only 7:30 and came to the conclusion that she had woken him.

"Oh thank god, are you okay?!" she asked hurriedly down the phone, worry was more than apparent in her voice. Will chucked faintly.

"I'm alright, I'm alright, are you?" he asked.

Clarice let out a small delighted laugh. "I'm fine, I could hardly sleep. Do you want me to come over?"

She could hear his head shake through the phone. "No, no, it's not safe for you here right now. Besides, I'm going to see Crawford today, let him know the situation."

"That sounds fair," she tried her best to hide to the disappointment in her voice. After spending her whole night worrying about Will she'd hoped to see him, find out for herself that he was okay.

After a couple minutes chit chat about their plans for the day Clarice ended the call and changed into running gear. Will had instructed that she stay within the public eye and not go anywhere that was isolated but she needed to get away to think, to clear her head. Besides, she was fast, and if Hannibal Lecter decided to try and pursue her she was fairly certain she could outrun him. So she ran along the road and through the woods without a spot of bother. It was nice to be distracted, to smell the trees and get away from the stress of the night before. When she returned home Ardelia was now awake and in the kitchen making coffee. Clarice grinned at her when she walked in as if she had read her mind.

"How you feeling?" Ardelia asked, sympathy plaguing her countenance.

Clarice shrugged. "I'm alright I suppose, I'm more concerned about Will."

Ardelia nodded bringing her mug to her lips and taking a small sip. "What are we gonna do about them, then?" she gestured her head to the azaleas that Clarice had placed in a vase and put in the kitchen the day before. They really were beautiful.

Clarice sighed. "I suppose we should throw them out. It'd be creepy if we get them, right?"

Ardelia raised her eyebrows. "You're damn right!" she exclaimed.

Clarice couldn't help but laugh a little at Ardelia's enthusiasm. There were days when Clarice missed staying with her eccentric friend, she always had some way of making a mockery of a situation and taking Clarice's mind off of the heavier things in life. She was a good friend.

She scooped the flowers out of the vase and made her way downstairs, out of the apartment building and round the back to the communal trash bins that the apartment residents made use of. As she opened the lid a voice stopped.

"Were the flowers not to your liking, Clarice?" she spun on her heel and met those strange eyes looking at her, unblinking. Dr. Lecter stood about four feet in front of her, without her support, the trash bin lid came crashing down making her jump. Dr. Lecter gave an amused smirk. Clarice reached for her gun that normally resided in her holster but failed to realise she was still in her running gear. When she realised she alone and unarmed her heart sank to her stomach the same way it had when she'd heard his voice on the telephone.

"Now, now Clarice there's no need to fret, I don't plan on harming you," his eyes met hers and he smirked once again. "At least not yet anyway."

Clarice held her composure and kept her chin up. "What do you want Dr. Lecter?" she would not let her fear control her, she would not give him the satisfaction of thinking he had any control over her.

He tilted his head to the side and took a step towards Clarice. She did not step back, she would hold her ground in defiance. She would not let him manipulate her.

"My, my you certainly are a lot more beautiful face-to-face," he mused, taking smaller steps towards her. Clarice looked at his hands, he had no weapon in either hand, but that didn't make him any less dangerous. After one step too many, Clarice took a step back. Not out of fear, more out of caution.

She swallowed. "You didn't answer my question, Dr. Lecter."

One final step and he was right in front of her, inches away from her face. He tilted his head again once more and his face delved to her neck. Clarice tensed. His breath on her neck was warm and Clarice caught the slightest whiff of peppermint. She was wary of his movements but did not move, scared that if she did so she would only endanger herself further. Just as she thought he was about to brace his teeth and bite her he stopped moving. She felt him inhale deeply and she furrowed her brows in conclusion.

"You put on a good performance, Agent Starling," he pulled away from her and met her gaze. "But you reek of fear."

She gaped at him, his eyes were burning her own with the intensity of his stare. "Why are you here?" her voice was shaking now.

His eyes gleamed at the tone of her voice. "Why, to see you of course," he stated as if the answer was so obvious.

Clarice was out of options, he had boxed her in and there was no escape. She felt it was time to call for backup. He was one step ahead of her however, he noticed as she took the inhale to yell, perhaps for Ardelia or just help in general. She didn't get the chance to, she made one tiny noise that sounded like the start of the plea before he clamped her hand out her mouth, with his free hand he wrapped it around her waist pulling her close.

"Now, Clarice, let's not be so stupid, hmm?" he raised his eyebrows at her. Her eyes were wide at the sudden contact and she struggled against him. "Besides I'm only here for initial introductions. I'm sure we'll become more well acquainted very soon," he grinned at her.

In a rush of panic, Clarice brought her knee up to his groin making him flinch and step back, releasing her. She gave him one last look as he composed herself and she sprinted back inside and into the apartment. Ardelia noticed her panic as Clarice rummaged through the kitchen for the emergency handgun they kept.

"Girl what happened?" Ardelia's voice was high pitched and overflowing with concern.

"Hannibal Lecter," Clarice explained breathlessly as she grabbed the gun she was looking for. "He's here, out back. He just," she struggled to find the words. "Cornered me."

"Oh, fuck, Clarice," Ardelia was right behind her, her own gun in hand, as they ran out of the apartment and retraced Clarice's trail.

Eventually they made it out to the front of the street but he was nowhere to be seen. In the distance a car could be heard driving away. Her eyes darted around the whole street. Nothing.

"He's gone," Clarice sighed in defeat, lowering her gun. She ran a hand through her hair in frustration and turned to Ardelia, panting.

Ardelia put her gun back in her holster and looked up at Clarice. "Clarice," Ardelia said as she caught Clarice staring into space. Her voice brought Clarice back down to Earth. "Why was he here?"

–

Will stormed into the home of Jack Crawford only minutes after getting off the phone with Clarice. He saw red; rage flooding his ears as he furiously marched through into Jack's home office.

"He went after Clarice!" Will practically screamed the second he walked through the door. "The son of a bitch was at her home, Jack, he," Will swallowed. "He touched her, grabbed her."

Jack was not startled when Will walked through the door. He adjusted his glasses, remaining seated and looked up at Will. "We're doing everything we can, Will, I sent agents over there the second Agent Mapp informed me."

"Well it's not good enough, Jack!" Will angrily paced his office.

Jack's voice remained calmed. "Will, you have to remember Starling and Mapp are agents themselves, they are trained to handle these situations. It may be hard for you to see this, but Agent Starling can handle herself."

Will shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "They _just _graduated, Jack. Clarice has close to no experience in the field and even if she did, nothing has or ever will prepare her for this."

Jack furrowed his brows. "Will, I have to ask, why all this concern over Agent Starling?"

Will sighed, he'd have to tell him one way or another. "We're getting married, Jack," he looked at Jack. "Well I haven't asked her yet, being stalked by serial killer kind of puts a dent in my plans."

Jack's eyes widened, he seemed at a loss for words. "I'd say congratulations were in order but I'm assuming the pair of you started your relationship when you were teaching?" Will nodded his head. "You can see where there lies a problem."

"Look this isn't about us, this is about Clarice, she's in danger," Will pleaded to Jack with his eyes.

Jack rose from his seat and raised his hands in a calming motion. "Look, Will, I promise you, Clarice will receive the best protection the FBI can offer. But you have to remember, she's a federal agent. From what I heard today, she handled herself pretty well today."

Will didn't feel any less worried as Jack lead him out.

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**Apologies for shortness of this chapter! Don't forget to fave and review :)**

**Next chapter should be up by tomorrow**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The next morning the Tattler was filled with stories of Hannibal the Cannibal's apparent crush on the rookie FBI agent. On her way to work on Monday, Clarice was shamelessly photographed by a number of photographers who had waited outside of her apartment. She held her own and passed them nonchalantly as she made her way to her Mustang. When she arrived at work all eyes were on her as she made her way to her desk. She didn't meet a single eye as she sat down and started on the paperwork she aimed to finish that day.

She hadn't heard from Will since she called him to tell him about Dr. Lecter's surprise appearance the day previous. She knew he'd gone to see Jack Crawford though. It was apparent when Jack called her into his office and he appeared more concerned about her relationship with Will than her safety from Dr. Lecter. He made a clear point of making sure she didn't make it public that her and Will were in fact in a relationship, sighting that the Tattler would have a field day. She could see his point but was a little infuriated. She had had no problem keeping her relationship with Will a secret before, it was mutual agreement between the pair of them. What she did have a problem with was Jack Crawford telling her to keep it a secret, as if it were something to be ashamed of.

That night when she returned home there were more reporters than there were this morning, and more agents than there were the night before. Ardelia had already beaten her home and was sitting at the kitchen counter reading over paperwork.

"Mrs. Samuels was here earlier," she told her as Clarice entered the kitchen and grabbed a Coke from the fridge. "She wants to know when, and I quote, 'all those noisy-ass hooligans with cameras are gonna haul ass and clear the front entrance so she can Mrs. Puddlesworth out for a crap without being questioned about some Clarissa Stirling lady'."

Clarice shook her head. "Jeez, I spent three weeks helping that women repaint her apartment and she doesn't even remember my name," she faked offence. "Some people, am I right?"

Ardelia laughed. "You seem to be in a fine mood," she inquired sarcastically. "You heard from Will today?"

Clarice shook her head in disappointment. "Not a thing since yesterday morning. I tried calling him a bunch of times but he hasn't replied to any of my messages."

As if on queue the buzzer for the apartment went. Clarice rushed to the door and answered it. "Hello?" she spoke as she held the button down.

"Agent Starling, Will Graham is here to see you," one of the agents downstairs spoke in a distrusting tone, doubting the man trying to get through. She could hear reporters in the background shouting for Will's attention but he ignored them and stepped towards the microphone.

"Hey sweetheart it's me, they won't let me through," Clarice was happy to hear Will's voice at last.

"Send him up guys he won't hurt me," she buzzed the front door open and waited impatiently for Will to come through the front door. He knocked but had already started to open the door. The second he saw Clarice he scooped her into his arms and held her close.

"Oh my god I've been so worried about you," he squeezed her and stroked the back of her head.

Clarice pulled away slightly. "Worried?! I've called you countless times and you didn't even call me back?" annoyance was apparent in her tone.

"I know, I know I'm sorry sweetheart," he kissed her forehead and pulled her close again. "I just got so caught up in it all and trying to find him and contact-"

"Wait a second," Clarice let go of Will and stepped back out of his arms. "You're _looking _for him?" she raised an eyebrow.

Will looked at her questioningly as if his answer was obvious. "Well, yeah."

She raised her eyebrows even further. "And you think that's a good idea because...?"

He furrowed his brows. "Because the sooner he's caught the sooner you will be safe."

"Will, the local police, the FBI, the CIA everyone is looking for him. Did Crawford say to do this?" Will was silent and looked away from her. "Oh my god," she ran her hands through her hair. "Oh my god, no one knows you're looking for him do they?" Will didn't say anything. "What, did you think you could just catch him by yourself, huh? Relive the glory days? That's a suicide mission, Will!"

Will couldn't stay quiet any longer, his rage was bursting at the seams. "The man took everything from me, Clairce, okay? Everything! He cost me my psyche, my job, my sanity, Molly, Josh, I have nothing left because of him!" he practically screamed at her.

Clarice's eyes were beginning to tear up. "You have me, Will," she said quietly, reminding him. He looked at her in an apologetic manner after realising what he'd just said. He took a step towards to her and held out a hand but she stepped back. "Be honest with me, Will, are you doing this to keep me safe? Or are you doing it as your own personal form of revenge?"

Will was quiet again. He couldn't look at her, tears of frustration and confusion were filling his eyes now too. After one too many moments of silence she spoke again.

"Answer the question, Will," she was staring right at him now, her stare burning into the side of his head where he could see her in the corner of his eye.

He turned to look at her, "Can't it be both?" he asked, meeting her eyes.

She crossed her arms and shook her head. "No, Will it can't be both. Because in what world is you getting yourself killed keeping me safe? Don't you realise that you and Ardelia are the only family I have?" she moved slightly closer to him then. "If I lose you I don't know what I'll do."

"Who's to say I would die?" he asked looking down at her.

She shrugged. "Maybe you wouldn't. But the whole ordeal will scar you. And then it's right back to square one, it's right back to the nightmares, to the anxiety, to the insanity and before you know it you're back to the bottle." He looked away from her then. "I don't know what I'd do if you went back down that hole, I don't. But if I can stop you going down that hole then I will," she brought both her hands to his face and met his gaze. "Please, Will, don't look for him. Let the FBI handle it. Stay safe with me, please."

He had let a tear slip now, as had she. He brought his hands to hers and grabbed them. He turned his face into her right palm and kissed it and turned back to look at her. "I can't just let him go, Clarice, I'm sorry. I have to look for him. I have to find him."

She let go of his face then but he held her hands. He held her hands even as she stepped away from him. "I'm sorry, Will, but I can't sit idly by while you allow yourself to be killed, or even worse."

He took a step towards her but Clarice pulled her hands back and held them up in a giving up manner. "Clarice, please..." was all he could say.

She was crying now but she tried to remain strong as best she could. "I love you, Will. But it's him or me." He didn't answer her then and looked away from him again. She knew him too well to know what that meant. "I think you should go," she barely choked out.

"Clarice," he cried, begging her with his eyes. She mouthed "go" but he wasn't sure if she had mouthed it or if she just couldn't muster the sound. With one final look at her he turned on his heel and walked out the door. Clarice tearfully locked the door behind him and pressed her forehead to the cool wood. She turned her back to the door then and allowed her body to slide down until she was sat at the bottom of the door sobbing, crying her heart out.

Ardelia was at her side in a moment and was cradling her in her arms. They sat like that for a while, Clarice breaking and Ardelia having no idea what to do or say to put her back together.

–

Five days past and it had now been a week since Hannibal Lecter had entered the life of Clarice Starling. Clarice had only seen Will during such time when she went to the house to pick up a few of her things. He had quietly helped her and constantly fought the urge to beg her to come back with everything he had. He knew she would only come back if he stopped hunting Lecter. But it was something he had to do, and if she couldn't understand that then they couldn't be together. After she had left the house Will had sat in their bedroom staring at the ring he'd purchased in the box that it sat in. He had wanted to marry Clarice. He still wanted to marry Clarice. He was all ready to propose when that bastard stepped back into the spotlight. He'd cost Will yet another part of his life and his need to find Hannibal had only been intensified.

Clarice carried about her life as normal within those five days. She went to work, ignored the photographers and the whispers from her co-workers, went on runs, watched TV with Ardelia and generally tried to pretend things were the same. But things weren't the same. Will was gone, there was a madman after her and the love of her life was away chasing said madman. All the while she sat at her desk and remained unharmed and unscathed in her secure as hell apartment. After a while the photographers and reporters got bored of waiting outside Clarice's apartment and gave up and went home, much to the relief of Clarice and her fellow neighbours. When Clarice was home she hardly left her room. Most nights, Ardelia could hear Clarice sobbing uncontrollably. She couldn't tell if it was when she was awake or asleep but she knew Clarice preferred to be left alone.

One night though, Ardelia awoke to screaming and shouting. She grabbed her gun and burst through to Clarice's room to find her thrashing around in bed, tears streaming from her eyes. Ardelia looked around the room and saw nothing but Clarice. As she edged closer she could clearly see that Clarice was in the middle of a horrific nightmare. Putting her gun down, Ardelia shook Clarice awake. Clarice woke up sweating and panting. Ardelia held her as she breathlessly repeated something almost inaudible about 'lambs'.

After all the fuss from the tabloids died down Clarice felt she could breathe a little. She called Will and they chatted about the search but everything else was just painful unnecessary chit chat. They both knew what they wanted to say. They wanted to tell each other they loved each other and beg each other to come back. But they knew it wasn't an option. At least not while Lecter was at large.

After the five days, Clarice went to go get a coffee at the local small café on the corner of a street that was only a few blocks from her apartment. She usually took away but today she felt she needed to rest and sit down and just observe the life going on around her. So she sipped her coffee and watched the passers by, admiring and envying the sense of normality that each person seemed to have about their life. Young couples in love, mothers and fathers with their children, all things Clarice craved and missed. As her eyes darted around the café she felt her eyes grow weary and her body feel heavy.

She checked her watch and saw that it was only two in the afternoon, she should not be feeling this tired. She kept her eyes busy in an attempt to stay awake and continued scanning the café. That's when she saw him. He was staring right at her just a few tables away, disguised in sunglasses and a fedora. When she looked at him he smiled and tipped his fedora. She tried to shout but her words were stuck in her throat. She was too drowsy to yell and she felt herself fading as she looked down at her coffee and put the pieces of the puzzle together. He had drugged her. She got up to leave, swaying a bit as she rushed out of there. He rose from his table and followed slowly behind her.

Hannibal Lecter took Clarice Starling a mere few moments after exiting the café. To security cameras and people passing by it would've looked like a gentleman aiding a less-than-well young woman and guiding her to his car to drive her home. As Hannibal drove away with a now passed out Clarice in the passenger seat he felt a tingling sensation of excitement. His game had finally been set into motion. And he was going to have lots of fun playing.

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**Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, balls really going to start rolling now. Please review and next chapter should be up by tomorrow :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the late update guys, ended up being really busy past couple of days and wasn't too sure where I wanted this chapter to go so it took me a while to write so hopefully I've done well by you guys!**

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Chapter 5

When Clarice woke she wasn't sure if she'd opened her eyes or not. All she saw was black, not a shimmer or slither of light could be seen. For a moment she thought she was in a nightmare, revisiting her rendezvous with Buffalo Bill. When she came to her senses and pieced it all together she remembered. Hannibal Lecter had taken her. When she went to move she noticed that her wrists were restrained, handcuffed behind her. Her feet were also conveniently tied together.

"Not like I can go anywhere," she sneered. "Can't see a damn thing for shit," she grumbled.

After a few minutes she heard movement. She brought her knees up to her chess in a defensive position. Her heart was pounding, her breathing quickened. Anxious as to what was about to happen.

A door began to creak open and with it light started streaming through Clarice squinted at the sudden irritation she felt in her eyes. Squeezing them shut for a moment she slowly opened them and saw a figure standing in the door way. After her eyes adjusted she saw his face. He was dressed in suit trousers, a shirt and a waistcoat and tie. His shirtsleeves were rolled up his elbows in what Clarice could honestly say was the most casual she'd seen him out of prison clothes.

"Dr. Lecter," she didn't really how dehydrated she was until she spoke, her voice came out dry and irritated. "How long have I been out?"

He stepped into the room and looked her up and down, taking note of her defensive stance. "Good morning, Clarice," he said almost pleasantly. He ignored her question and proceeded. "I'm going to untie you in a moment to let you walk around and get some food. I'm only going to do that, however, if you promise not to struggle or cause any nuisance of any kind. I can tell you now that if you do, it will not end well for you."

She considered his words for a moment and stared at him. After a while she met his eyes and nodded. If he wasn't going to answer her question she wasn't going to ask them.

He nodded in respond and approached her. She knew he wouldn't hurt her, at least right now. She figured he wasn't the type of person to kick a man while they're down. He walked around her and unlocked her handcuffs, she slowly brought her hands round to her front and quickly rubbed her wrists before going to untie her leg bounds before he could. He took a step back from her giving her room to get up. She pulled herself up too quickly and realised just how dead her legs were and she immediately lost her balance.

Before she could hit the ground he caught her in his hands. He carefully helped her back up till she was standing upright. When she realised the way he was holding her she quickly stepped back and slowly walked out of the room, him following behind. She immediately walked into a modern, black and white kitchen. Clarice furrowed her brows, she expected some sort of Victorian old-school vibe.

"I'll admit it's not my taste," he explained as he came up behind her walking into the kitchen. "But alas, it's the best I could get on short notice." He made his way over to the cabinet and began preparing breakfast for her; a bowl of fruit.

Clarice did not address his statement. She instead sat down at the kitchen table in silence. He noticed this and looked at her, raising his eyebrows. "The silent treatment, have I really offended you that deeply?" he enquired as he cut fruit.

_Oh I don't know, but the way I see it kidnapping a girl and locking her up in a pitch black room isn't exactly fucking courteous is it, Doctor Lecter?! _She thought aggressively but stayed quiet. She didn't want to anger him. God knows what would happen if she made him angry.

As he placed the bowl in front of her she picked at it and nibbled at it. After the coffee shop she was wary not to enthusiastically ingest anything he gave her. He sat down across from her with a mug of what smelled like tea. He observed her. Her hair was uncombed and messy, he felt it appropriate considering he had clearly ruffled her feathers. Her make-up from the day before had smudged around her eyes resulting in dark circles forming. She still looked beautiful, as beautiful as the first time Hannibal had laid eyes on her. But she would need a shower.

Before he could offer, she spoke up. "So what exactly are the terms of this apparent kidnapping? What interest am I to you?"

He tisk'd. "Don't ask questions you already know the answer to, Clarice, it is rather tedious," he took a sip of his tea. "Please, tell me your insight into all of this and I will let you know if it matches my own."

She sighed. "Clearly, you found out about me and Will's," she swallowed uncomfortably. "relationship. You want to exploit it and use it as a means of revenge. You think that by holding me hostage you'll accomplish your revenge."

He shook his head, an amused expression plastering his face. "Oh no, no, no, Clarice you were so close. Hostage implies that I will release you as long as I receive something in return. I don't intend on releasing you for anything," he said casually, taking another sip of his tea.

Clarice's eyes widened and she could feel her heart sink to her stomach.

–

Will walked into Clarice's apartment and immediately felt tension in the air. He walked through the the kitchen where Ardelia said she'd be and saw her sitting at the island counter. Jack Crawford stood opposite her. Ardelia's face was blank, her eyes were wide.

"Jack, Ardelia," he addressed them both and looked at Ardelia. "What's this about? Where's Clarice?" Will asked.

Ardelia swallowed, it sounded like she'd been crying. "Will," she managed to get out. "Clarice never came home last night."

Will furrowed his brows. Before he could say anything else Jack interrupted him. "You might want to have a look at these," he held up what appeared to the white backs of photographs.

"Will.." Ardelia began to warn but it was too late, he'd already grabbed the photos and was looking at them with shaky hands. Black and white security camera pictures showcased a young woman, Clarice, clearly struggling to walk, being assisted by a man who's face was hidden by sunglasses and a hat. Other pictures saw him getting into a car, putting the woman in the passenger seat. Will didn't have to be smart to realise the man was Lecter. He saw red. Rage filling every inch of his body.

He gritted his teeth and looked at Jack. "You son of a bitch!" Will lunged at Jack grabbing his collar. Ardelia yelled his name but he wasn't listening. "You said she would be safe! You said nothing would happen to her!" he yelled in his face. Jack showed shock and slight panic but remained slightly calm, understanding his anger. Ardelia stuggled to pull Will off of Jack but finally managed to and dragged him away from Jack, standing in front of Will defiantly. Will's eyes looked far away now as he breathlessly repeated "you said she would be safe."

–

After showing her around the house, Doctor Lecter showed her to her room. Her room was simply a king size bed with a chestnut wardrobe in the corner, filled with clothing Doctor Lecter had already selected. Clarice shuddered to think what kind of clothing he'd arranged for her. She had an en suite bathroom however Doctor Lecter explained that her shower was currently under maintenance and she would have to use the downstairs bathroom shower for the time being. Her bedroom door had a keyhole and only Doctor Lecter had the key. He explained he would only lock the door whilst he himself was asleep. Her windows were also locked by a key as an extra precaution. After the tour Clarice was given lunch and then offered a shower.

Clarice stayed in the shower for as long as she could. It didn't take her long to wash herself with the expensive shampoos, conditioners, soaps and body lotions Doctor Lecter had left out. The rest of her time was spent simply standing there contemplating what was happening. She had simply been torn from her life, away from the job she worked so hard for, away from the people she loved. Rage built within her. Clarice watched the shower water as it circled the drain and could almost feel the fear washing off of her as well. There was no use fearing Hannibal Lecter, it would do her no good. It wouldn't get her anywhere. If she feared him, she was stuck here for god knows how long.

As the shower water ran, Clarice pulled the curtain back and surveyed the room. Anything could be used as a weapon if you really thought about it. It needed to be hard, relatively easy to carry and she had to be able to bring it up to a certain height to strike him with it. Given the bareness of the room her eyes fixated on the porcelain toilet. Keeping the water running she crept out of the shower and towards the toilet. Slowly and gently she lifted the lid off the top of the toilet. It was heavy, but not too heavy to carry. She placed it next to bathrobe she'd brought into the bathroom with her and crept back into the shower. The water had turned cold signalling that it was time for her to get out.

Quickly drying her body with the towel and ruffling her hair till it wasn't so damp, she discarded the towel on the ground and slipped on the white bathrobe. She picked up the lid and slid it under her bathrobe till it was resting just below her breast and against her abdomen. She repressed a hiss as the cool porcelain made contact with her skin. She tied the belt of the robe and tightly as she could holding the lid in place. She held a hand at the bottom of the lid, on top of the robe as extra security. She picked up her discarded towel, giving him no reason to go into the bathroom after her if he felt the need to collect it.

When she exited the bathroom she found him sitting with his back to her, facing a lit fireplace and, she could only presume, he was reading. He didn't lift his head or do anything to acknowledge her appearance but she knew he knew she was there.

"What should I do with my towel?" she asked almost too politely.

He titled his head in an upward direction and got up from his chair. Just as she thought, he placed the book he was reading on the arm rest of the chair and turned to face her. He smirked at her and winked as he made his way towards her. He took the towel from her. "Allow me," he smiled as he went to walk away.

Clarice took the opportunity. In one quick motion she had slid the lid from under her robe, raised it and lunged as Doctor Lecter's head. But the movement was all too slow for his senses. He dropped the towel and caught the lid as it came down towards him. Clarice's eyes widened, shocked at how quickly he had anticipated her movement. Still she resisted his grasp and attempted to pull back the lid but he was too strong. With one quick haul, he had torn the lid from her hands and discarded it to the floor.

Clarice refused to back down and lunged at him herself, bringing her fist to his face. He caught her fist in his hand and squeezed, sharp pain from her hand coursed through her and she gasped. With her other fist she went for his gut but this time he caught her wrist. In one swift movement he moved his hands to the tops of her arms and with an angered grunt he pinned her against the wall. She continued to struggle but it was no use. His grip only tightened each time she moved.

"I must say, Clarice, your efforts do surprise me," he sneered at her. "All this time I thought you feared me but here we are. Please, do tell me why you have had a sudden 'change of heart' so to speak, hmm?"

Clarice spoke through gritted teeth. "You pissed me off."

He chuckled darkly. "Oh, Agent Starling, this is not angry, this is stupidity," he tightened his grip on her arms and she hissed in pain. "I told you that if you caused trouble it would not end well for you and I am a man of my word. However, given it is your first day I'm willing to give you a second chance which, as I am sure you know, is not something I give very often." Clarice glared at him, not wanting to back down. "If you want to make the most of bad situation, to put it lightly, you will comply to the rules I set and you will not behave rationally or idiotically then I will treat you as an equal in this house and I will stay out of your way as much as possible. If you do not, then I will have no choice but to treat you as a prisoner and if my patience ceases to exist with you any more then I will not hesitate to kill you, do I make myself clear?" he said all to calmly despite having just threatened to kill her.

She stared at him and struggled against him once more. This time he was rougher with her, pulling her from the wall before pushing her back into it. This time she hit her head with a bang and felt a wave of dizziness overcome her. "So what? You just expect me to give up? Because let me tell you, Dr. Lecter as long as you have me here, as long as you keep me alive I will not stop trying to escape you. I will not stop fighting and if my patience with _you _ceases to exist then I will not hesitate to kill you, either," she growled at him. "Do I make _myself_ clear?" she hissed at him.

Amusement filled his eyes as he stared down at her. He raised her hands above her head and pinned her wrists with one hand. With his free hand he brought a hand to her face and cupped her cheek. "Brave Clarice, always the warrior, aren't we?" he murmured, his thumb brushing her cheekbone.

She didn't flinch at his touch. She only stared at him in defiance. "You don't know a damn thing about me," she said through gritted teeth.

He tilted his head, a slight glimmer in his eye. "I will soon enough."

"Like hell you will," she held her chin up and continued to stare at him.

He still looked amused. "Very well then," like that he stepped away from her and took her by the wrist and dragged her to her bedroom. He pushed her through the door and pulled out his key to her room.

"I thought you said that was only for when you were sleeping, the sun only just went down for Christ sake!" she protested.

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Ahh yes, but you see, my dear, that was back when I believed you were going to co-operate with me. As you have made it very apparent as to where you stand and where I stand, I am forced to treat you as the prisoner you believe yourself to be."

"But-"

"Ah, ah, ah, Clarice, no 'but's," he winked at her. "Good night, Clarice."

And with that he closed the door and locked it. Clarice made her way to her bed, flopped down, grabbed a pillow, covered her face and screamed in frustration.

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**Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, I'm so excited to be writing more of Clarice and Hannibal interacting with one another. Sorry for lack of Will but gonna be focusing a lot more on Hannibal and Clarice right now so sorry to Will fans! Please don't forget to review, favourite and follow :)**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Hannibal watched the evening news intently. Almost every news station was covering the story of Hannibal's capture of Clarice, from what the FBI knew, to the ongoing investigation, to the conspiracy theories. He smirked as he watched everyone make mistaken assumptions of his whereabouts. Hannibal was in rural Montana while the FBI searched Washington. He watched the repeat of the news later on in the evening whilst sipping his wine and found it to be just the same as a couple of hours previous. Turning the television off he approached the piano he kept in the corner of his living room.

As he sat down and his hands and fingers graced the keys his mind wandered to Clarice. The way she'd acted had surprised him. Sure, she was an FBI agent and she had training but he was so certain that she had feared him. It was odd being in her presence when she didn't fear him, Hannibal would even go as far as to say she confused him. Nevertheless, he shook the thoughts and memories of her still slightly dripping wet from her shower and how close in contact their bodies had been from his mind and played on, composing in his head.

The next morning he woke up early, showered, made himself and Clarice breakfast, ate his own breakfast, then laid out Clarice's on a tray and took it to her room. He placed the tray at the bottom of the door and unlocked it before retreating back downstairs to the kitchen to clean up. When he returned to the kitchen he could hear the creaking of the floorboards as Clarice moved out of bed and to the door. He heard it open, there was a pause, and then the door closed again and the floors creaked as she carried the tray back over to her bed. Hannibal chuckled internally at the thought of her picking at her breakfast in bed while she sulked. A smirk grew on his face as he washed the dishes.

After a couple of minutes he heard Clarice move again, this time leaving her room and coming downstairs. She didn't dare look at him as she passed the kitchen and made her way to the shower. Hannibal sat and drank a cup of tea as he listened while she showered and left the bathroom. For the quickest moment he saw a flash of her in her towel as she hurried up the stairs and he felt a slight flutter in the pit of his stomach as he was reminded of his closeness to her the night before.

An hour passed before Clarice left her bedroom again. This time Hannibal was sitting in the living room reading. She entered the room in a pair of jeans, a blue sweater and her hair was tied up. Hannibal nodded to her, acknowledging her entrance.

"Good morning," he greeted her as she stood in the door way. "Please, sit," he gestured to the sofa and Clarice sat down.

"What are you reading?" Clarice inquired looking at the book in his hands.

He lifted it up and showed to her. "First edition Return of the Native," his eyes met hers. "You read much Thomas Hardy?"

Clarice shrugged. "Not since high school, I read Tess of the D'urbervilles, didn't really interest me," she scrunched up her nose, remembering reading the novel.

"And why is that, Clarice?" he asked, curious to what her answer would be.

"I didn't like the character of Tess, she was too whiney," she said casually. She brought her feet up onto the sofa and leaned against the arm of the sofa.

Hannibal nodded slightly. "A fair assumption," he replied. "Why the sudden interest in my reading material, Agent Starling? Is it part of some ill-thought of psychological profile you are trying to compose of me in order to better assist your next escape attempt, hmm?"

She sat herself upright so she could face him. "After last night, I need to be a lot slyer than that, Doctor Lecter," she challenged him,

He smirked at her. "Most definitely, Agent Starling," he winked at her.

Clarice looked around her and shrugged. "So where are we anyway? I know we're not in Washington any more."

He nodded in approval. "Very perceptive, Agent Starling, we are no longer in Washington, we are in Montana," Lecter's eyes went back to his book.

Clarice raised a quizzical eyebrow, she hadn't expected him to answer her question. "You really are confident I can't escape aren't you?"

His eyes left his book again to meet her gaze, he placed the book on his lap and elegantly crossed his legs giving her his full intention. "What makes you say that?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

"If you had any doubt in your mind, which I'm going to go out on a limb and say that you don't, that I could escape, you wouldn't tell me where we were," she explained, her tone taking a turn for the formal. Lecter found it amusing, he noted she had a certain way of speaking when she attempted to be 'Special Agent Starling' instead of Clarice. He could tell already there was a distinct difference between the two.

His eyes shifted, considering her words. "Well yes there is that," his eyes met hers again wanting to savour her reaction. "And we'll be leaving the country tomorrow anyway."

He watched as all of the colour disappeared from her face almost immediately and her eyes widened. He saw flashes of shock, despair and finally anger in her eyes. "Where are we going?" her voice was almost a whisper.

"Now, Clarice, where would the fun in telling you be?" he winked at her. He was loving this, pressing all of her buttons, releasing the fire that resided deep within her that he was certain she herself had never felt before. When her eye lids came together in a glare he knew he'd pressed one too many buttons.

"You son of a bitch," she hissed just before she lunged at him, in one swift movement she had clambered on top of him. For one tiny moment, Lecter let his hand go to his pocket to retrieve his Harpy which allowed Clarice one tiny moment to get at least one blow in. Clarice's fist had barely drawn back from his face when he grabbed her by the back of her hair and pulled her head back, exposing her throat. Despite the unexpected strength behind her blow, he did not flinch and went about bringing his blade to her neck. He heard her sharp intake of breath as the cool metal pressed firmly against her skin. He couldn't help but take notice of the way she was straddling him and how with her head bent backwards accentuated her breasts that now moved slowly up and down as she tried to take control of her breathing. Lecter tried to focus on the stinging, throbbing sensation coming from his right cheek rather than the throbbing sensation that was about to take place elsewhere if he didn't differ his attention.

"Now then, Clarice," he spoke calmly, as if he wasn't holding a knife to her neck and could easily end her life with a simple flick of his wrist. "Are you going to calm down or am I going to have to give you a time out so to speak?" He lifted his chin to get a better look of her facial expression. There was nothing but rage there, still no fear. Her eyes were wide and glazed, tears of frustration threatening to come down. Apart from her breathing she was completely still, wary of the blade at her throat. "Clariiice," he drew her name out and pressed the blade harder against her skin, coaxing her to answer.

She hissed in pain, he brought his eyes down to her throat, noticing he had pricked her ever so slightly, a red bead of blood appeared just at the tip of the blade. "Are we going to behave or are we going to have a problem?" he asked. He would not ask again.

She sighed in defeat. "No," she said through her teeth.

"No, what, Clarice?" he asked, his tone was a lot harsher now.

"No we are not going to have a problem," he could practically hear the eye roll in her voice.

He removed the blade from her throat but kept a firm grip on her hair, holding her there. "Now then, was that so difficult?" he didn't expect her to answer. His eyes examined her throat, the small bead had turned into a thin trickle of blood now. He simply could not resist. Leaning forward he brought his mouth to her throat and gently he ran his tongue along the short line of blood. He heard her breath catch in her throat and her body tensed under him in surprise at the sudden contact. The sound pleased him immensely. When his tongue reached the source of the bleeding he delicately placed a kiss on her neck before withdrawing. With one final intake of their position, he slowly released his grip on her hair.

Clarice brought herself up and for a moment she stayed there, straddling his lap, her hair all ruffled and out of place, her breathing coming in almost gasp-like pants, looking at him. He looked right back at her, watching her cheeks burn. She moved off at him, he picked up his book and began reading again, as if nothing had happened. All she could do was stare at him in disbelief, trying to process what had just happened. Eventually she shook her head and made her way upstairs and into her room, frustration and confusion possessing every nerve in her body.

–

That night Clarice dreamed of her father. He was sitting in the kitchen, peeling oranges, offering her slices, Clarice was happy again. She dreamed of Will next, his sheepish grin that was plastered on his face the first time she had told him she'd loved him, her happiness continued. Finally she dreamed of Hannibal Lecter, of the kiss he planted on her neck, of the shudder that had erupted throughout her when his lips had made contact with her skin. Clarice's happiness was interrupted as her eyes flew open before her mind could begin to imagine other shuddering scenarios. Rolling over she saw that her clock read that it was only three am. Nevertheless, she _needed_ a shower.

She made her way to the door and pulled on the handle when she suddenly remembered where she was. Sighing in defeat she paced her room feeling helpless until a couple of minutes later she heard a light knocking on her door that made her jump followed by the sound of a key going into a lock then a click. Opening the door, she saw him standing there in pyjamas, even then still looking formal. His hands were clasped behind his back and he stood there politely looking at her.

"If you had any intention of stopping that incessant pacing any time soon that would be gravely appreciated," he said almost sweetly, trying his best to mask his annoyance.

Clarice folded her arms. "Well I'm sorry but if someone didn't put a fucking lock on my door then I'd be able to go downstairs and shower and return to bed but alas, here you are unlocking the door to your own fucking leisure," she stared him down.

He tilted his head. "I'm going to choose to ignore your discourteous outburst of profanity and instead ask why on earth you wish to shower at such an early hour?"

She was silent. Lecter watched in amusement as the smallest bit of blood rushed to her cheeks, reddening them ever so slightly. She simply shrugged in response.

"Well seen as you're awake now I should inform you that we'll be leaving in approximately six hours, so if you would like to use this time to pack then so be it," he smiled at her, but it was not a smile of comfort or happiness, if anything it was amusement, he was loving how much control he had over her, how for the first time in a long time he was the one who wasn't imprisoned, but she.

"I'm not leaving, Doctor Lecter, you can't make me," she kept her tone calm and stood her ground.

He raised an eyebrow at her and folded his arms, leaning against the door frame. "Tell me, Clarice, why are you so intent of staying in this armpit of civilisation, hmm? Is it because you think Will Graham and old Jackie-boy will be more likely to find you if you stay in the country? Well let me just tell you now, Clarice, they are not going to find you," his tone took a turn for the bleak as his eyes burned into her. "They are never going to find you. Do you know why? Of course you don't, you're far too naïve. They won't find you because they do not care about you. Sure, they'll put in a good effort for a month or so, maybe two, but after a while they'll slowly realise that finding you is the last of their worries. Jack will go back to mourning his poor wife and finding a new protégée while Will on the other hand, without the presence of you in his life, will get back in touch with his demons, so to speak. He'll realise that being with you does not compare to the rush he feels when the alcohol hits his tongue and over time he will forget you and you will become nothing more than a sad news story they'll bring up from time to time to scare the public into being more cautious in their every day life," his eyes had grown wider as he spoke, taking pleasure in her discomfort.

But she didn't flinch. No tears threatened to fall, no look of sadness or disgust, her body language remained defensive. "If Will doesn't care about me why am I here?" she challenged in reply.

He simply smirked at her. "Goodnight, Agent Starling," and with that he turned on his heel and retreated back to his bedroom, leaving her once again confused and awestruck.

–

When Clarice woke next she knew she wasn't in bed almost immediately. For instance, she didn't have a sense of weightlessness when she lay in bed, and she knew that her bedroom did not have engines that made _that _much noise. Wrinkling her nose she squinted and waited for her eyes to adjust. Looking around her she was welcomed to what seemed like day time all around her, as she sat up she realised she was in fact on what seemed to be a sofa, instead of a bed.

Scanning her surroundings she realised she was on a plane. And not just any plane but a very elaborate private plain, complete with spacious, fine white leather seats, a cream carpet and a fine mahogany table. It could've easily been mistaken for a living room if it weren't for the seatbelts and the small windows. Upon stirring she saw Doctor Lecter make his way through to the cabin and stop when he noticed her awakened state. She was looking at him in alarm as panic washed over her.

"What did you give me? Where are we?" she looked down at her clothes and realised she was no longer in her pyjamas from the night before. "What am I wearing?" her face reddened as she looked up at him. "How did you-"

He hushed her, holding up his hands and moved towards her in what appeared to be some sort of surrender. "Please, Clarice one question at a time," he said as he sat down in the chair just opposite her.

Taking a deep breath she ran her fingers through her hair and sat up straight, but did not directly face him, instead she brought her knees up and wrested her elbow on her left knee, coming to grips with her situation. He sat there in a fine maroon sweater that fitted him well accompanied by black trousers, his stubble had grown significantly more since the first time he laid eyes on Clarice only but about two weeks later and could almost pass as a full on beard. He had also grown his hair out and it was no longer slicked back but instead allowed to fall loose, Clarice imagined this felt awfully tedious to him. While he still looked sharp and well-groomed, he did not look like Hannibal Lecter, but any other man you might find. That was the whole idea after all.

"All right," she took another breath. "What did you give me?"

"General anaesthetic, my dear," he answered straight away, almost automatically. She noticed how he sat perfectly still, never once moving a muscle unless it felt it accompanied and emphasised what he had to say. "You made it perfectly clear that you had no intention of leaving without a fight and unfortunately I couldn't have any unnecessary attention brought my way. It really was the only way I was going to get you on a plane, Agent Starling."

She nodded slowly, processing his words. "Where are we going?"

"Switzerland," yet again, straight answer. "Basel to be exact. From there we will be travelling by train to London where we shall take up residency."

Nodding again Clarice asked her next question. "Okay then," she paused uncomfortably and met his gaze. "Obviously I am wearing different clothing to my clothes last night. How exactly did I get out of them?"

He smirked at her then. "I dressed you in them," he answered, trying his best to sound innocent.

"Did you, um, how did you-"

"If you're asking if I took a sneaky peak at your unclothed body, Clarice, the answer is no. You forget I am a medical professional, the act of changing a woman from one set of clothes to another without looking is a reasonably easy one at that, so no Clarice I did not look at you. No matter how much I would've liked to," her eyes widened slightly at that. That compared with his kiss upon her neck gave her enough reason to question what exactly his intentions where by her. "Relax, Agent Starling, I would never disrespect you in such a way. Such discourtesy is unspeakable ugly to me," he assured her.

And for some unexplainable reason, she believed him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry about the break there folks, had a bad case of writer's block but it's all good I know where I'm going with this now!**

**Hope you guys enjoy the chapter :)**

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Chapter 7

Clarice did not speak for several hours. The rest of the flight had been filled with comfortable silence as Dr. Lecter read and Clarice dosed in and out of sleep. Every time she woke Lecter would quietly ask her if she required food or drink. Two times she said yes, the rest of the time she simply shook her head and rolled away from him, trying to sleep, trying to get away to any other place but where she was. After arriving in Basel they were scurried hastily onto a train to Mannheim. Before stepping off the plane however, Lecter threw her an all too life like blonde wig. She stared at it, now lying on her lap and looked at him.

"I would have dyed it myself," he explained. "But you wear the natural look all too well, Clarice."

Reluctantly, she tucked her hair into the wig. The train to Germany was silent, Clarice noting that she had not seen him sleep once throughout their journey. She knew he couldn't, he couldn't risk her getting away. The second train was less crowded than the first, so much so that they appeared to be the only passengers for a whole train. As the bar cart came along Clarice had had enough and sighed heavily, gaining her captor's attention.

"You don't say much do you?" she queried, looking at him in annoyance.

"On the contrary, Agent Starling, it is you that I believe enforced the silent game," he replied putting his book down. Clarice's eyes went to his book. Dante. In the original Italian. _Pretentious prick_.He smiled at her, "tell me, Clarice, what would you like to talk about?"

She rested her head against the train window and watched the scenery zoom by. She brought her gaze to his and thoroughly thought about what she was about to say. "What do you plan to do to me?" her voice was shakier than she would've liked.

"I'm afraid you'd have to be more-"

"No," she cut him off and ignored the irritated flash of distaste on his face as she continued. "No bullshit, I just want a straight answer, for once. What are you going to do with me? You can't cart me around on trains and planes and take me to different countries for the rest of your life so-"

"Can't I?" he raised an eyebrow at her. She paused and looked at him, considering his words.

Facing the truth she answered, "No," she shook her head. "No you wouldn't risk your freedom like that, I would always be a liability. So tell me, Doctor Lecter? When _do _you plan to kill me?"

He smiled and didn't answer until he had ordered a glass of wine from the bar cart. Clarice refused a drink. He waited until the cart was empty was again and took a sip of his wine before continuing. Clarice waited surprisingly patiently. "I'll admit I have given some thought to it. Mailing your remains to Agent Graham, something poetic in that sense. But the sheer cliché of it offends me. When our time together comes to an end I have several contacts that could harbour you, keep you fed and warm, three square meals a day, a soft bed, it would be a _mighty fine _fate for someone from your background," he took a sip of wine, casually reading her expression of hurt and disgust.

"So what? I'm just supposed to be carted about from criminal to criminal like some sort of prisoner for the rest of my life?" she tried to keep her tone calm but to no avail. He instantly picked up the distress she tried to suppress at the back of her throat.

"Ironic isn't it?" he smiled smugly into his glass as he took a sip.

Clarice let out an astonished and exasperated noise that was neither a gasp or a sigh but both. She shook her head more violently. "I don't get it, Doctor Lecter. I'm sorry but the only thing I have done to _deserve _this is love Will Graham. And I am so sorry if my happiness offended you in any way but I can assure you I never meant in any way to offend you or hurt you in any way," she didn't let her tone get any louder than it had to be. Her words came out in a harsh almost-whisper. He simply stared at her as a tear of frustration threatened to escape her. When she realised he wasn't going to say anything she let out a sigh of irritation and moved to a seat behind him. He let her, understanding she needed to be away from him as long as he could still hear her all was well.

–

The next train was silent, as was their final train as they took the Eurostar from Paris to London. This train was busier than the train to Germany and Clarice was forced to sit beside him in the otherwise cramped cart. Eventually her bladder got the better of her and she had to get up to go to the bathroom. As she shifted to get up he grabbed her wrist instantly, locking her in his iron grasp. The old woman sitting opposite them shifted uncomfortably after she jumped as his instant movement. Clarice wasn't surprised as he had sat perfectly still throughout the journey so far.

"Where are you going?" he said in a harsh whisper.

"The bathroom, why? Do I need a pass now?" she hissed right back at him.

He released her grip. "If you're not back in five minutes I will come looking for you," he warned, this time he was quiet, so he was sure no other passengers would hear him.

She rolled her eyes. "We're on a moving train, it's not like there's anywhere I could go," she challenged as she snatched her wrist back and made her way to the bathroom.

Waiting patiently at the bathroom door, Clarice gave the woman coming out a warm smile which was not returned. Rolling her eyes once more she made her way into the bathroom. It was a small cramped space but the woman who had just exited had clearly just changed her clothing as her brown cardigan lay in a heap on the floor and her large, round, black sunglasses were perched just below the tiny mirror. Picking it up to return it to her, Clarice paused and looked at the cardigan. She looked down at the white cashmere sweater he had dressed her in. It was incredibly bright for a reason. Suddenly inspiration struck. She stuffed the sunglasses and cardigan into her bag, did her business and began plotting her escape.

–

When they arrived in London it was raining and it was dark. It was winter, meaning almost pitch black at the early evening hours of seven. He had informed her that there would be clothing for them already at their residence in London therefore they were not required to cart around any luggage. Clarice clutched her bag like it was her life line. Lecter took her arm as he led them out of the train station and onto the busy London street. It was a Friday night and the streets were filled with tourists and locals a-like. Clarice took comfort in the rain that poured down onto her and relished in the smell of the outdoors, noting how deprived she had been lately.

She shook herself out of it and focused when she saw her opportunity. A group of around ten Asian business men were heading their way, laughing and talking, oblivious of their surroundings. They were passing on the pair's left, there was a road leading up onto another street behind them on the left. On her right was crowd, then traffic, then another street. She took a deep breath and realised her error. He felt her tense up and looked to her. For a moment she thought she saw genuine concern on his face. But it was now or never.

The group of men were right next to them now. Using all her strength she could muster she shoved him into the group of men and side stepped into the crowd that was walking in the opposite direction. Clawing off her wig she hastily threw it in the direction of the street behind the men she quickly tied her hair into a pony tail as she power walked. Her heart was pounding against her chest so hard it caused her legitimate pain but she pushed it to the side as she hauled the cardigan out of her bag and wrapped it around her shoulders and placed the sunglasses on her head. She dumped the bag in a nearby trash can and kept walking. She didn't know if he was behind her but she was certain that if he caught her, she was dead.

When she was sure she was in the clear and side stepped into a darkened tunnel. She would wait here for several minutes as she regained her thoughts and planned her next move. She was panting, breathing heavily. The rain had soaked her through and she was beginning to feel the cold as she let out a shiver. The noise of a bottle smashing echoing through the tunnel made her jump, she almost screamed.

"Well, well boys, what do we have here?" a male's voice erupted through the tunnel followed by several sniggers. _Fucking perfect_.

"Don't come any closer," Clarice warned. "My name is Clarice Starling I'm an agent of the FBI I suggest you keep your distance."

She came out from the side of the wall and held her arms up in what could be perceived as a surrender.

"Oh aye here we go, a fucking yank," a different man's voice echoed now, followed by a chorus of sniggering. Clarice let out a shiver, she was getting colder and colder by the minute. As the men moved closer she was able to make out shapes and counted them. There was five of them all together. Calculating yet another strategy, she worked out her plan of defence. She backed away slowly, her head went over her shoulder to the crowd passing by, if she sprinted she could make it. And sprint she did. But as she took off she heard the same man shout after her and before she knew it all five of them had caught up to her.

Two of them, the fastest of the group, jumped in front of her and grabbed her. Before the rest of them got any closer she kicked with all her might the shin of the man on her right, causing him to stumble and let go of her. With her arm now free she elbowed him in the face, he let out a howl as he stumbled back. Turning her attention to the man on her left, punching him square in the nose, blood spurted immediately, she brought herself closer to him and brought her knee to his manhood and thrust hard. One final blow to the head and he was on the ground.

The three others were getting closer now. Turning back towards the crowd she set off to run again but the man she had just knocked over reached out and grabbed her ankle, causing her to trip. He was quick to scurry on top of her just as the other boys caught up. They announced their presence but hooting and yelling as Clarice squirmed and struggled under the man's weight.

"You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?" the man quipped as he pinned her down. "Sure you'd look even prettier out of these clothes."

"Don't you fucking dare!" she yelled in his face. She squirmed as he just laughed and pulled out a knife. He pressed it to her neck and she froze. As he brought the knife to her collarbone, he began slicing her cardigan, moving to her shoulder and down her arm, ripping the fabric as he went. The blood from his burst nose dripping down onto her face, Clarice threw her head forward and bashed his already injured nose once more. He let out a yell and rolled off of her in pain, Clarice was quick to swipe the leg of one of the next man closest to her, sending him crash landing onto the ground. Jumping to her feet she kicked and punched any of the men that got close to her. When she had pushed them away far enough she darted to the man who had previously been on top of her. She straddled him and with one, strong blow to the head he was knocked unconscious. She retrieved the knife and hauled herself back up again when suddenly, pain.

Stinging, burning white hot pain in her left arm. One of the men had grabbed her, dragging a knife into her arm in the process. Gasping in pain, Clarice felt hot tears fill her eyes. But then he moved closer to her, big mistake. That one step forward was all he needed to literally walk into the knife she held in her hand. The look on his face was now similar to that of Clarice's. In a swift moment of panic, Clarice twisted the knife. The man let out a breathless groan and collapsed. Leaving a knife sticking out of Clarice's arm.

Three were down. Two of them left. She had told them her name, she was on the news, and now she had killed one of them.

The two left conscious stared at her wide eyed.

"You fucking bitch!" one of the men launched himself at Clarice. Just as he was about to get to her he stopped. His eyes bulged and his mouth gaped. He seemed to say something to her right before he collapsed but she didn't hear him. Instead, a new wave of terror coursed over her when he fell onto his front and revealed a perfectly thrown knife sticking out of his back.

Clarice didn't have to look up to see who had thrown the knife but she couldn't resist. He stood there, still, composed, comfortable. Like nothing had happened. The last man standing's eyes darted between the two. Lecter was blocking his only exit. And now he was slowly walking towards him.

Clarice could feel her heartbeat drumming in her ears. The pain was getting worse by the minute and she could feel herself getting colder. Now she felt dizzy, her vision began to blur and before she knew it she was down on the ground. After that all she saw was shapes moving frantically in the dark, one falling. The last thing Clarice Starling saw before closing her eyes, was Hannibal Lecter, crouched in front of her, eyes bearing into her, softly saying her name.

"Clarice..."

–

Lecter watched the sleeping warrior as she dozed softly. She talked in her sleep, something Dr. Lecter couldn't help but find charming. She mostly said names aloud, quietly calling for Agent Mapp, Will Graham, her '_Daddy_, even calling out his own name once or twice. Always Dr. Lecter. Never Hannibal. At one point she unpleasantly complained about lambs. He would have to ask about that later.

When Clarice had shoved him away and she had ran off his first response was pure blind rage. But ever the one to be in control of his emotions, he had calmed himself. He had expected her to make another escape attempt sooner rather than later and the moment he felt her tense he knew what was going to happen. He followed her at a slow pace, watching in amusement as she rid herself of her wig and dawned that god awful cardigan in an attempt to blend in but it was to no avail. Clarice Starling would always stick out in the crowd in his eyes.

But one unruly cyclist and he had lost her momentarily. He kept his cool as he continued walking in the direction she had been walking. Perking up his ear he had heard her, her voice echoing.

"_Don't you fucking dare!" _she had yelled and he knew he had found her. In a much less than satisfactory position.

He entered the alleyway and hid in the shadows, watching from a distance as Clarice fought, quite literally to the death. And my, my, did she fight. Lecter watched in amazement as she fended off the men one by one, bringing them to their knees. But as the man with the knife approached he fought the temptation to call out her name. But by the time she had turned around it was all too late. He heard the large intake of breath and although he could not see the knife penetrate her, the way her body tensed was indication enough of what had happened. Lecter took a step closer towards coming out of the shadows, putting an end to the madness when he saw it. Clarice gutting the man in front of her.

Lecter had to take a moment to admire the woman he was harbouring kill a man in cold blood. True, it was self defence but leaving the knife in him was defence enough, twisting the knife was something else entirely. He knew now how messy this situation would be. He calculated it as he approached. Five men dead in an alleyway, Clarice and Lecter's prints all over the scene. While he had to admit he was intrigued by the idea of the pair of them running together, leaving a bloodbath in their wake, he couldn't have the authorities knowing he was in London.

He quickly disposed of the two remaining conscious men, before slitting the throats of the two remaining alive men. With the left over alcohol that the men had with them, Lecter was fast when dosing them with it before setting the bodies alight. While the bodies may not completely burn they would burn enough to rid them of fingerprints. He turned his attention to Clarice who had now passed out on the ground, freezing and bleeding. He had to get her back to his town house immediately. Putting his coat around her shoulders, weary of the knife still in her arm, he lifted her into his arms and carried her away. His town house was a mere three blocks away and he managed to carry her there in record time.

Upon arrival he took her straight to his bedroom with it being the closest and lay her on the bed. Ever so carefully, he removed the knife and was relieved that she had not been cut deep. It was a simple stitch job and he was certain his work would not result in scarring. He wiped her clean of blood and dirt and gave her drugs for the pain and simply watched her. He had convinced himself that it was for professional purposes but somewhere within him knew that he took pleasure in caring for the little injured Starling.

She woke slowly, her eye lids fluttering before barely opening. Her eyes met his and for a moment she lazily kept her gaze there before opening them wide eyed, alerting herself.

"Good morning, Agent Starling," he beamed at her, all he could read on her face was confusion.

"What time is it?" her voice was groggy and dehydrated.

"I do believe the hour just turned to three a.m.," he informed her, his tone was automatic, almost robotic, giving Clarice no indication as to how she was feeling. He reached forward to check her stitches but she flinched back a considerable distance. Lecter froze and reclined back, he sighed in what could be translated as disappointment. "Clarice, I have to check your stitches," the look of fright and caution on her face did not disappear. "Clarice I will never harm you unless you give me reason to, now please would you let me inspect your injury."

Her face relaxed but she still kept her distance. "You're mad at me," she simply said, her voice was almost as quiet as a whisper.

"Yes, but I am not surprised. In a way, I feel what happened to you was punishment enough for ruining my five hundred dollar sweater," he smirked at her.

And for the first time, Hannibal Lecter heard Clarice Starling laugh. It wasn't a exaggerated, full on laugh, more rather a tired chuckle heard only by a lover in the middle of the night. He brought his eyes to her face and saw that she was smiling slightly. He made a note that he should try to make her laugh more often, her smiled moved him to his core.

She looked at him, considering him, reading his eyes. "You saved my life," she stated. His eyes left hers then. "Why?"

His eyes came up to hers and held her gaze. "Well, Clarice," he reached out and captured her hand gently in his. She did not protest. He had never touched her this intimately before, the touch sending an electric sensation coursing through him. He stroked her finger with his. "It would seem the world is far more interesting with you in it."

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**Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, already half way through Chapter 8 so expect that soon as well as new updates for any of you reading my other fic! Don't forget to favourite, follow and review and I'll see you guys next chapter :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**hey guys, this chapter is shorter than usual but felt it was a good place to end it. **

**Thank you guys so much for the reviews, I love each and every one of them and they really help me write this story, I love seeing what you guys think of the story and what you think might happen next :)**

**In answer to your question, Michelle, for me Clarice will always be Jodie Foster, but I still love Julianne Moore I think she did a great job in Hannibal! In this story I personally imagine Jodie and Anthony, but I get if people want to imagine Clarice as Julianne or Hannibal as Mads, Will Graham will always be Hugh Dancy to me (I love Edward Norton but let's be honest the scariest thing in Red Dragon was his blonde hair). I try to refrain from physically describing the characters cause I understand people will have different images in their head :)**

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Chapter 8

Over breakfast the next day Hannibal could not contain his curiosity. She sat across the table from him, nibbling at pieces of strawberry, keeping to herself and avoiding his gaze, but she knew fine well that he had barely taken his eyes off of her the entire morning since she had awoken. As she sat there silently, he ambushed her.

"Tell me about the lambs, Clarice."

At the mention of lambs Clarice dropped her fork onto her plate as if she had just received a terrible fright. She stared at him, he couldn't tell if the look on her face was fear or anger or sadness or maybe even all three. All colour washed from her face. Her mouth gaped at him as he patiently waited for her to say something.

"What, uh...how did you-"

"You talk in your sleep. As endearing as it is Clarice, you do sound awfully disturbed when you appear to be dreaming about the lambs," he explained before casually taking another bite of his omelet.

She let out an exasperated laugh and picked up her fork, digging into her pancakes. "It's a long story," she shrugged.

Lecter swallowed. "And we have all the time in the world. Besides who better to talk to than a renowned psychologist," he was about to wink at her when she cut him off.

"Look, Doctor Lecter," her fork fell again but this time on purpose. She was angry now. "I really don't want to talk about it, okay? So I'd really appreciate it if we left the topic alone, okay? I'd much rather talk about anything else."

Seizing the opportunity, Hannibal smirked. "Tell me about your relationship with Will Graham."

Clarice raised a questioning eyebrow. "Are you trying to psychoanalyse me, Doctor Lecter?" she asked, popping a piece of pancake into her mouth and washing it down with a sip of orange juice.

He chuckled quietly. "Of course not, Clarice, I'm simply trying to get to know you better is that really such a crime?"

She shrugged. "Trying to get to know me? No, I wouldn't say so. Kidnapping me, drugging me, carting me half way across the world, now that I'd say is a crime," she replied sarcastically, turning her attention back to her breakfast.

Lecter was smiling. She amused him more and more every day and he simply couldn't help but be intrigued by her. "Come now, Clarice, you really must learn to make the most out of a bad situation," he grinned at her.

She looked up at him, _seriously? _Was the look she gave him. She gathered up her now empty plate and got up to leave the table. "Bad situation doesn't even cover it, Doc," and with that she exited to the kitchen to put away her used dish and cutlery.

Throughout the rest of the day, Hannibal kept himself busy by pottering around the new house, exploring and getting to know the place. Occasionally he would stop by the piano and play for an hour or so, smirking to himself when he could hear Clarice looming behind the doorway, listening to him. Clarice, when she was not listening to Hannibal spent a lot of her day looking out the window at the hustle and bustle of the busy London streets and watching TV, mainly the news. The investigation for her still had a healthy amount of news coverage, but when they cut to a clip of Will Graham exiting his home, looking tired and unhinged, Clarice couldn't help but feel a tight feeling in her chest.

Reaching for the remote she paused the TV and looked at him. She didn't know when the last time would be where she would see his face. Getting up from her chair she slowly got up from her seat and made her way towards the television set. Kneeling in front of it, she placed a hand on the screen, just beside his face. She missed him terribly, and seeing him in such a state ruined her. She felt tears gather in her eyes.

"I am so, so, sorry, Will," she whispered as a rogue tear slipped and coursed down her cheek. Before she knew it hot tears were pooling down her face and she found herself sobbing softly. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry.." she kept repeating over and over again.

Due to her crying, Clarice had not noticed that the piano playing had stopped. When it clicked she whipped her head over her shoulder and found him standing there in the doorway, simply staring at her. She sniffed and wiped her eyes clean, taking a deep breath to compose herself then looked back at him. He was still standing there staring, looking at her with an unreadable facial expression. After about ten seconds of awkwardly staring at each other, Lecter turned away and walked out of the door frame and out of sight.

–

Will Graham was sitting at home alone drinking what appeared to be his third glass of whiskey as sad jazz music echoed through the house. He stared at the spot on the living room floor were just weeks before he and Clarice had slow danced the night away, he had never been happier. He sat like that for a while, staring and remembering when there was a buzz at the door. Turning off the speakers, he put down his glass and headed to the door.

A woman stood there, a woman he had never seen before. She looked him up and down, obviously judging him but Will had too much of a buzz to care.

"Can I help you?" his voice was tired and agitated, he did not wish to converse with anyone.

"Mr. Agent can I speak with you for a moment?" the woman asked.

"No," Will began to close the door when she cut him off.

"I'm here on behalf of someone who can help you catch Hannibal Lecter!" she called out, Will paused and considered this.

He looked at the woman through the crack of the door, he furrowed his eyebrows questioningly. "What's your name?"

She smiled at him, almost seductively. "My name is Margot."

–

After dinner that night Clarice retreated to the living room for once instead of her bedroom. He followed her and lit the fire as she sat on the love seat directly opposite. After a meal of almost silence, Lecter felt he should say something.

"I must apologise for intruding on you earlier, you were having a private moment it was discourteous of me to watch," he said sincerely as he sat down next to her. He looked at her, she looked into the flames.

"I think kidnapping me was intrusion enough, Doctor, don't pretend for a moment that you actually give a rat's ass about me," her reply was cold and blunt. The flames Clarice watched intently was clearly not the only fire in the room that evening.

"Do you think I would've saved your life if I didn't _give a rat's ass_ about you, hmm?" he mimicked her West Virginian accent that she tried so hard to suppress to perfection. She gave him a side-eye glare before going back to watching the fire. "Tell me about the lambs, Clarice."

"No."

"Please?"

"No, Doctor Lecter!" she turned to face him. "I don't like delving into the past and I'm sure that you don't either so can we please just drop the subject!" she almost yelled before turning her focus back to the fire.

Sighing, Hannibal put his arm around the back of the love seat and crossed his legs as he sat more casually now. He studied the warrior sitting in front of him, watched her jaw clench as her anger built, her steady eyes fixated ahead of her.

"Well, how about this, Clarice?" he addressed her but she did not turn her head. "Quid pro quo, I tell you things, you tell me things. You can ask me anything you like. Quid pro quo, yes or no?"

She considered him, slowly turning her head to meet his ever present burning gaze. "Anything I like?" she asked, her head nodding slightly.

"Within reason," he smiled at her. "What do you say, Clarice?"

"Alright then, go," she said, already regretting her choice.

"What is your worse memory of childhood?" he asked.

"The death of my father," she answered automatically. She told him all the intricate details of her father's death, the ranch and the lambs. He was a good listener, offering a sympathetic glance when he felt she needed it. She teared up ever so slightly, but held her own. Hannibal listened and he thought and he wondered. Eventually it was her turn.

"What about you, Doctor Lecter? What is your worst memory of childhood?" she asked.

"The death of my sister," he said, almost robotically. "I was around eight years, she was four. Our family was killed in the war, we were taken by deserters," he looked away from her, it was difficult for him to return to the memory. "They were cold, hungry. And my sister, Mischa, she umm..."

Clarice couldn't help but raise her eyebrows in surprise. She never heard him stutter or stumble in his speech, clearly he was finding this hard. She didn't know what came over her when she put her hand out to cover his. This time he raised his eyebrows. The familiar spark from before was back, coursing through him like an electric shock. He looked up and saw the shine in her eye. Did she feel it too? Of course not, all he was to her was a monster. But here she was, holding the monster's claw and looking at him in a way no one had looked at him in his entire life. Looking at him, with not just sadness at his story, but understanding. In that moment, Doctor Lecter did not feel like Hannibal the Cannibal, but Hannibal the Man. The broken, lost man who in that moment just simply needed someone to share his pain with.

"I'm sorry about your sister," Clarice whispered, her voice full of sincerity.

Hannibal smiled without teeth, for once he truly felt comforted as he placed his other hand over Clarice's. "It's quite alright, my dear," he stroked her hand with his thumb. "It was in the past, I try not to let it bother me."

Clarice nodded in understanding. They sat like that for a while, not saying anything, just staring at each other in mutual empathy as they held each other's hands. He longed to pull her closer, wrap his arms around her and never let go but he couldn't. Not yet. She wasn't ready. But for now he would enjoy the smallest part of contact he could get.

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**Again, sorry about the shortness of the chapter, but hoped you enjoyed it and please don't forget to review, I really appreciate it!**

**Next chapter should be up soon :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**This started out as a light hearted short cute chapter but thought I'd make it that bit more dramatic by putting these two chapters together, enjoy!**

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Chapter 9

Several days passed, after their conversation the other night, Hannibal had found a new understanding in Clarice, one he had never imagined would be possible. He felt empathetic to her suffering, something he had not felt in many, many years and found himself surprised by the new light that he saw her in. Clarice, too, was surprised, but handled her new feelings of mutual understanding towards her captor in the best way she knew how, by internally freaking out and keeping as much distance as possible. Most of the time she was in her room, or the living room, reading or watching TV, when it came to dinner and other meals, a lot of the time Clarice would beat him to it and make her own food, forcing him to let her eat alone.

This did not go unnoticed by Lecter. He realised she was having difficulty, and dealing with her own inner conflict. He knew she would need time, but the more she distanced herself from him, the more he felt an unwelcome sense of longing towards her, he began to miss her sarcastic and icy wit, the house felt somewhat emptier than it had been when they first arrived.

While, Lecter went out for the day to run errands, he insured she was locked well and truly in the house, that she could not leave, although this time it filled him with a sense of disappointment that he to. When he returned his ears were immediately irritated, they unpleasantly rang as he faced the music of loud electric guitars and banging cymbals of drums clashing, a male's voice screamed almost inaudible words. He crinkled his nose in displeasure as he opened the door. His nostrils were filled with a strong smell of citrus and bleach. She had been cleaning.

The atrocity she called music blasted through the sound system, as he made his way to the kitchen, he saw her then. She was standing on top of a chair, cleaning the above cabinet that held most of the plates, that had been emptied onto the counter below. Beside the plates, there was a glass of bourbon. Her hair was tied back into a plait, she wore casual slacks and a blue t shirt, she was mouthing (somehow) along to the song that played.

He placed the bags down on the island counter and used the kitchen remote to turn off the music, catching Clarice's attention in the corner of her eye. His presence seemed to startle her, she spun round on her feet, and the mix of the alcohol she had had and the sudden unbalance, she was sent flying off the chair.

She collapsed onto the floor. Lecter raced over to her, shouting her name.

"Clarice!" he bellowed as he reached her, getting down onto his knees, supporting her head in his hand, her eyes were closed and she looked to be unconscious. With his other hand he checked her pulse under her jawline. The cool touch of his fingers on one of her sensitive spots made her open her eyes. Lecter let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

He looked into her eyes, keeping her concentration. But all she could do was squint her eyes and tilt her head, as if she was confused. "What happened to the music?" she asked, clueless.

"That horrific excuse you have for a music taste was switched off almost immediately, Agent Starling," he assured her. He brushed a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

She smiled and closed her ears as he let his finger trail lightly through her hair, enjoying the soothing sensation. "Mmm," she hummed, Lecter smirked at her response to his touch. "Where's Will?" she asked drowsily.

Lecter felt a tightening sensation in his chest and halted his movements. When he stopped, Clarice's moved her head into his hand, as if to urge him to continue. All he could was simply stare at her, the warrior he held in his hands as if she were a lover while she longed after the man who had taken everything from him. Lecter had repaid him the same courtesy. He knew Clarice would obviously still miss Will, still long for him, but the passed couple of days he had allowed himself to think that she know longer held him so highly in her heart.

"He hates when I drink," she moaned and brought a hand to her face, as if to be embarrassed.

Lecter moved his hand that was on the back of her head to her side and cupped her face. "Clarice, how much have you had to drink?" her eyes opened, he looked intensely into them.

She thought for a moment. "How much bourbon is in the glass?" she asked innocently.

"The glass if half-empty," he told her.

She raised her eyebrow at him. "Or is it half-full, Doctor Lecter?"

He chuckled at her. "Alright, up you get," he pulled her up by her hands. "Let's get these groceries away, then I'll make you some coffee."

She nodded and sat down at the island counter while Lecter began to pack away the groceries.

"He was going to marry me, y'know?" she said in a know-it-all-voice, she didn't give him time to answer. "He tried to keep it a secret but I found the ring in his closet weeks ago," she laughed at herself.

"And what would you have said?" he enquired, genuinely curious.

"Three months ago, I would have said yes," she looked away as in deep in thought. "Now I'm not so sure what I would say," she stared into space.

"What changed?" he asked.

She laughed slightly, taking a moment. "I guess, in the simplest terms," she shrugged. "He loved you more than he did me."

Lecter raised an eyebrow at her and paused his movements, resulting in Clarice laughing. "Not in that way dumbass!" she snorted then stopped. "Or maybe...that would explain a lot..."

Lecter brought her back down to Earth. "In what way do you mean?"

She shrugged and looked away from him. "When he heard about what happened, you coming to see me, he wanted to find you. On his own. He was determined to find you and kill you, without the FBI's help, without my help. He was fading, and I couldn't bring him back. I told him to choose, stay with me, or try to find you," sadness overcame her face, her eyes grew dark and glazed, she didn't seem to be in the room any more. "He chose you."

Lecter, for the first time in decades, didn't know what to say. He did not know any of this. He realised in that moment, if he had left Clarice alone, if he had not taken her, the effect would have been the same. Will had lost Clarice already.

–

Clarice woke up the next morning with an all too familiar headache and was immediately filled with dread and regret. She rolled over and caught sight of a glass of water accompanied by two aspirin at the side of her bed. There was no note, or any explanation, but she understood the kindness of the gesture, but she would not acknowledge. She sat up, slowly, and eyed the two small white pills. After everything over the past couple of weeks, she was very weary of what she put in her body, especially what had been given to her by him.

She decided against it and instead thought she would retrieve the aspirin and water herself. She lifted herself out of bed and put on a pair of yoga pants and the loosest fitting t shirt she could find, it wasn't a far cry from her hangover wardrobe from home. She crept downstairs, trying to be as quiet as possible but she knew he would hear her. He would always hear her, somehow. She reached the kitchen and retrieved a glass of water.

She struggled to find the aspirin, but she was disturbed by the sound of him entering the kitchen. She turned to find him unsurprisingly dressed for the day in a fine grey suit. There never seemed to be a casual side to him it appeared.

"Do you know where the medicine cabinet it?" she asked, running a hand through her hair, realising how frizzy and out of place it was.

He buttoned up his jacket as he spoke to her. "Clarice I understand you may be miserable in your current setting but I would highly doubt you saw suicide as an option," he raised an eyebrow at her.

"I wasn't... I didn't..." she stuttered.

"Relax, Clarice," he stepped towards her. "I'm curious as to why you still don't trust me?"

"I can think of more than one reason," she grumbled under her breath.

He smiled. "Third cabinet to the right of the refrigerator."

She nodded her thanks and headed to the cabinet and retrieved the aspirin. She ingested the pills, washing them down with a sip of water. Lecter didn't take his eyes off of her for one second.

"I wanted to inform you that I am expecting a guest this evening, he will be joining me for dinner," he explained.

"Hmm, hot date?" Clarice replied sarcastically.

His facial expression did not shift. "Very funny," he stared at her intensely enough to make her feel uncomfortable. To his surprise, she appeared to have grown accustomed to it, and the amused glint in her eye did not fade. "To avoid any discourtesy or risk, I would appreciate it if you stayed confined to your bedroom for the course of my guest's visit, so is to leave us alone to discuss important business as such."

"Alright, what do I get out of this?"

"This is not a negotiation, Agent Starling," his voice was firm. "You forget you are my prisoner. You will stay in your room and in return I won't kill you tonight."

"But you will if I don't?" she met his eyes, challenging him.

"I urge you not to take that risk, Clarice," he countered.

–

Night fell and at eight o'clock approached, Clarice begun her ascent up the stairs. As her hand went to the bannister, Lecter reached out and placed his hand over hers, stopping her.

"Clarice, it is nothing personal, me keeping you away from my guest, I do hope you realise that. I understand that this is discourteous of me to ask this of you, and I apologise" he assured her, locking his eyes with hers.

Her gaze softened. "Doctor Lecter, you overestimate how much I care whether or not you are courteous to me. Perhaps it is you who forgets that I am your prisoner," her tone was blunt.

"Clarice you cannot deny that we have, in a certain sense, bonded over the past week, I feel it would be beneath us to not at least acknowledge it," he explained.

"You saved my life, for that I am grateful, I will acknowledge that," she nodded, her eyes drifted away from him to their hands on the banister. "But you're also the one who made my life hardly worth saving." she stared him dead in the eye, her gaze was cold and harsh.

Before he could reply there was a knock at the door. Clarice slid her hand out from underneath his and continued her ascent up the stairs without another word.

–

Clarice spent her night reading through high end fashion magazines, admiring the clothes and the glitz and the glamour, indulging in the life she never had. She thought for a moment, wondering if Doctor Lecter could give her that life, should she ever act on their 'bond'...

She shook the thought from her mind, feeling ashamed and guilty for thinking such a thing. True, yes, Doctor Lecter could be charming and kind from time to time, but she knew better than to trust him, let alone forgive him for the hell he had put her through. She wondered if perhaps they had met in another life, at another time, before Will, if things would be different. She knew things would be different, she wasn't a fool. Would they be friends, would they run in the same social circles? Of course they wouldn't, Doctor Lecter came from a life she could only dream of.

Clarice became lost in her thoughts as the time passed, the clock on her night stand read that it was almost ten thirty and Clarice was growing hungry as she silently prayed that the guest would leave soon.

All of a sudden an almighty crash was heard. She shot upright and listened more intently. After no more noise she brushed it off as an accident. However, she immediately thought differently as she heard the smash of a plate, silverware crashing against the table and what appeared to be the sound of glass shattering. Something was going on downstairs. What if the 'guest' was in fact a victim? What if Doctor Lecter was trying to kill the guest?

Clarice switched into action mode and hurried down the stairs. She would not let an innocent man be murdered while she sat cooped up in her bedroom. She sprinted down to the dining room and could not see anyone. Her ears perked up at the sound of movement, a rustling of some sorts. She whipped her head round and saw none other than Doctor Lecter lying on the floor, on a bed of glass. The case that had held one of the many artefacts that were around the house had been shattered. She rushed over to his side, placing a hand on his face, being careful of the glass, and brought his eyes to hers.

"Doctor Lecter what happened?!" she asked, almost shouting, his hands were covered in cuts and blood and he looked positively beat.

"Clarice," he whispered, his voice was wheezy and breathless. He looked her in the eyes as he whispered, "Run."

Her eyes grew wide. She was right, there had been danger, but not danger from Doctor Lecter. Someone in the house was trying to kill him, maybe even trying to kill her for all she knew. Staring wide eyed at Doctor Lecter she let go of him and slowly stood up. With one final look at the broken man lying on the floor, she made a bolt for the front door.

–

Doctor Hannibal Lecter lay beaten and abandoned on a bed of glass. He stared at the spot Clarice had ran and cursed himself for allowing her to go. But he knew it was for the best, if she stayed she would be killed. He had not seen Alexander since he had made an attempt to find Clarice by checking the other rooms on the ground floor, somehow he missed her as she came downstairs and through to the dining room. Lecter anticipated that he was in the study by now. Forcing himself up, Lecter stumbled to the dining table, limping as he went.

He picked up the carving knife that lay next to the turkey he had served them and armed himself, ready for Alexander's second attack. As he heard Alexander approaching, he stood behind the door way. When he walked through, Lecter grabbed him, only to have Alexander push him off, making Lecter coil back. Knife in one hand, fist formed in the hour, Lecter faced off against Alexander, swiping with the knife whenever he got the chance. Alexander got a few hits in, but Lecter put up a good defensive as well as attack. With one well timed swipe, Lecter cut Alexander's cheek, causing him to leap back.

Before Alexander could make his next move, he was tackled to the ground. Lecter, in surprise, jumped back and looked down at the petite figure that now straddled his enemy.

He watched in pure admiration and Clarice ferociously attacked the man beneath her as he tried to fight back but to no avail. With one final, bone crushing bunch, Alexander's efforts stopped. She climbed off of him and made her way to the table, perhaps to find an object to knock him out with. Before she could reach the table, he stretched out and tripped her. Rushing to Clarice's side, Lecter stopped in his tracks as he watched Clarice, in one swift moment, put Alexander's head between her foot and her leg and twist.

With one snap, his body went limp.

Panting, Clarice slowly pulled herself off of the floor. She was covered the blood that had sprayed her from his facial injuries. Her hair was beyond repair, her eyes looked they themselves could kill alone. Lecter looked at her in equal parts admiration, equal parts pride and equal parts arousal.

"Brave Clarice," he murmured, her head whipped round and met his eyes. "Protector of the lambs. Am I a lamb to you now, Agent Starling."

She simply stared at him. "You saved my life, I saved yours. We're even," she panted. She looked to the dining room table then back to him. "Do you have any turkey left? I'm starving."

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**Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, let me know what you think in the reviews :)**


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